


Failing to Pieces

by WriterJunkie



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, G!P
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-14 12:32:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5743999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterJunkie/pseuds/WriterJunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With a failing six year marriage, Quinn tries to find a way to cope and get through her divorce. But when her planned rebound and distraction turned into something much more complex Quinn has to decide if she's ready to face the reality of her backfired plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Your boss is a dick.”

“Santana,” Quinn said, with a scoff. “You can't insult my boss!”

She looked over her shoulder. Behind the couch, her new friend and current fling, Santana, left the kitchen with two cups in hand. She moved around the couch and took a seat next to Quinn. She grabbed a two litter Pesi bottle from the coffee table and twisted it open. Santana chuckled and shrugged. She gave Santana her cup of soda.

“Q, you do know he can't hear us, right? Besides, It's true,” Santana said, flipping open a pizza box. “He makes you his bitch and eyes you like a hooker from Murray Hill, but doesn't promote you after all the hard work you've done for his sleazy ass!” Santana let out a huff of frustration. “Instead he gives it away to the other chick that puts out. You should punch him in his dick.”

“Okay, how do you even know where the prostitution district is,” Quinn said, with a shake of her head. “Also, I am no ones bitch! And that doesn't make it justifiable to try and crush his nuts.” Quinn said.

Santana reached to the coffee table and picked up a slice of pepperoni pizza. She took a bite and laughed.

“Nah, just break his dick in half,” she said in a nonchalant tone. “He's probably working with a Mike N Ike anyways, turn it into a Tic Tac. It'll be enough to start making this fair."

Quinn chuckled, “You're crazy.”

Santana smiled and placed her half eaten pizza back in the box. She leaned to the left and rested her head onto Quinn's shoulder. Quinn placed a hand on Santana's knee.

“Someone should to be pissed,” Santana said. “How can you be so calm? You've been with that company for ten years.”

Quinn ran a hand through her hair and sighed. It was disappointing. She had been looking forward to the promotion after her years of dedication, only to have it snatched from her because she had some dignity.

“I don't know, “ Quinn said with a shrug. “I still have a good job, even if I would have liked the promotion to finally buy myself a house. This condo isn't bad. I'll just try for the next one.”

Santana frowned, taking in their surroundings of Quinn's home. It was a beautiful luxurious two bedroom condo with a balcony, full kitchen, a living room, and full bathroom. It was quite the accomplishment to own a place like in New York City. Quinn stroked Santana's hair and kissed the top of her head.

“He wouldn't have liked what's underneath those skirts anyway.” Santana said, listening to Quinn laugh. “You'd destroy his ego if he saw how big your dick was anyways.”

Quinn let out another laugh and lightly hit Santana's thigh.

“That's enough talk about male genitals.” she said.

Santana sat up and grinned.

“You're just mad the conversation isn't about yours.”

Quinn's eyes cast downward. She knew Santana spoke about it in good jest, but it was still a touchy subject. Quinn had all traits of a woman, with the exception of a penis between her legs. It's held her back from relationships, ruined the ones she had, and kept her secluded during her childhood and into high school. Quinn had no idea how she even met Rachel, let alone married her.Quinn stared down to her left hand, staring at where her wedding ring used to be. Rachel was another sour memory, but this one wasn't years ago. The divorce is recent and still underway. She looked back up to see Santana examining her hand. It didn't bother her. Quinn had been up front with her the day they met at a local art gallery.

“I have to go.” Santana said, breaking Quinn of her thoughts. “I know I said I would come over to rant over your dickhead of a boss because he screwed you over today, but I start my shift at the record label in an hour.”

“What,” she said. “But you've only been here for half an hour.”  
Santana collected her coat from the hallway closet. Quinn didn't intend for Santana's visit to be brief. She at least expected they have sex before she left, even if Quinn originally called her because she needed comfort.

“We can do this another time.” Santana answered, putting on her coat. “Thanks for the pizza.”

Santana was out the door before Quinn could beg her to stay. She slouched back into the couch. She took a bite of her pizza and heard the buzz of her cellphone go off on the coffee table. She had a text.

**Kurt**

_Guess who just officially got hired to work for Vogue! We're celebrating tonight!_

Quinn grunted. She couldn't figure out what she hated more, staying home miserable about her job and the lack of sex with Santana today, or pretending to be happy happy for Kurt for landing his dream job. Quinn took a glanced around her empty condo and sighed.

***

Kurt texted her again at eight, she would almost missed it had he not call soon after. Quinn groaned, stretched, and realized she had fell asleep on the couch with the TV still on. She read the text, telling her they were meeting up at nine. She rubbed her face before picking up her phone.

“Hello?”

“Quinn, you haven't texted me back,” Kurt said, his voice laced with anger. “We're still on for celebratory drinks tonight at The Dutch?”

Quinn stretched a second time and got on her feet. She glanced at the time on her cable box underneath the TV. She had an hour to get ready.

“Of course,” she said, padding through her house and into her room. “I'll meet you there.”

“You weren't home drinking all day were you,” Kurt said.

“No Kurt. It's my day off can't I just stay home and sleep?”

“Please, I'm no fool,” Kurt said with a scoff. “Don't be late.”

The call ended and Quinn flicked on the light in her bedroom. Kurt is her closest friend and the only one Rachel and Quinn used to share. She didn't get along with any of Rachel's Broadway co-workers. Kurt had a love for musicals, singing, and fashion, but he appreciated other kinds of arts too. When he attended her first photography showcase, they clicked and have been close ever since. Quinn gathered her clothes from her closet and headed to the shower.

“Quinn!”

She spotted Kurt at a table already with a drink already in front of him. He waved at her as she made her way over, taking a seat across from him.

“I already ordered me an entree,” he said, taking a sip from his red cocktail.

Quinn picked up a menu, debating if she should order a drink. She's been drinking more since the start of the divorce and had been trying kick it before it developed into a habit. A waiter came over before she could put the menu down.

“I'll have Dry Fly Triticale.” Quinn said, handing back the menu.

If Kurt was going to celebrate she was too. The waitress took the menu and left. Kurt took another long sip through his straw.

“Congratulations going from intern to Vogue employee. You've been with them long enough,” Quinn said. “When do you start?”

“Monday morning. I got an email for my work load.”

“Shouldn't you cut back on the drinks?”

Kurt swatted a hand in response and said, “Oh I'll be fine. I'll have all of tomorrow to pull myself back together. Anyways, I think you need this outing more than I do.”

“What?”

Quinn watched a perfectly neat and groomed brow arch. She gripped the edge of the table with her right hand.

“Are we going to completely ignore what's happening,” Kurt said, placing his cocktail down.

Quinn sighed, rubbing a finger along the ridge of her brow. He tilted his head with a knowing stare in place. Kurt knew about the divorce. He was one of the first people she told. He was supportive and a good listener, as much as Quinn was willing to tell him. It was a difficult matter for her to process. He could be pushy when it came to trying to get Quinn to open up and deal with it and that meant talking about it. Which is exactly what Quinn had been avoiding for a while.

“It's still being sorted out,” Quinn said. “Please Kurt, I rather not talk about this on your night of celebration.”

“Alright.”

“You're drink Ms,” the waiter said, returning to the table with a tray and a glass of whiskey.

He set it on the table and was gone again. Quinn swiftly grabbed it, taking a large gulp.

“And what about Santana,” Kurt said.

Quinn's hand faltered, sloshing her drink. She didn't mean for Kurt to find out about Santana, but the night of Quinn's showcase Kurt had attended too. Quinn didn't plan for her evening to end with sex with someone she had just met that night. They weren't exactly quiet either.

“What are you talking about Kurt?” Quinn said, taking swig of her drink.

“You've been sleeping with her long enough,” Kurt said, swirling his straw around the brim of his cup. “You can't use her and expect everything to be okay. She's going to start wanting more.”

Quinn scoffed with a shake of her head. “She isn't a rebound girl.”

“Then what is she Quinn?”

Quinn sighed, staring into the bronzed color of her whiskey.

“Is this some sort of intervention,” Quinn said, surprised. “I get that you're worried about me Kurt but what does this have to do with my life?”

“You always bring her to our nights out and tonight she's not here,” Kurt said. “Did the two of you get in a fight or did she finally leave?”

Quinn clenched her teeth.

“She didn't leave and we're fine,” she said, a flare of anger in her voice. “It isn't your business!”

“You're right, okay.” Kurt said, finishing the rest of his cocktail.

The waiter returned with Kurt's dish. Quinn picked up her glass to finish it. The thought of Santana leaving running through Quinn's head in a flurry of panic.

***

Quinn was drunk by ten. She left with Kurt at ten thirty after being talked into closing her tab then she was pulled onto the subway by Kurt. He stayed with her until they reached her stop and she made it back home on unsteady legs alone. Santana was standing outside her door when she got there.

“Oh,” Quinn whispered, blatantly staring at Santana.

“I called you. Three times! An hour ago!” Santana said, with a glare.

Quinn brushed a hand through her hair. She tried to carefully make her way over, pushing pass Santana to dig into her purse for her key. But she couldn't get it to slide into the knob.

“Are you drunk,” Santana said.

“N-No,” Quinn said, shaking her head. “I'm...I'm fine.”

Santana groaned and took Quinn's key. She pushed the door open and wrapped her arm around Quinn's waist to guide her inside. They wobbled as they moved through the house and Quinn couldn't stop laughing. Santana settled her on to her bed.

“Are you made at me,” Quinn said, watching Santana dig through her drawers.

“I was worried,” Santana said. “Why didn't you answer?”

“I was out with Kurt,” Quinn said, laying back on to her bed.

Santana approached her with a set of pajamas and removed Quinn's heels first. Quinn stayed still as her clothes were removed and her shorts slipped on with a gray tank top.

“Hmm,” Quinn said, staring at her feet pouting.

“What?”

“Socks,” Quinn said, wiggling her feet.

“You're such a baby.”

Santana retrieved a pair of white socks. Satisfied, Quinn looked at Santana who was sitting beside her and stroking her hair. She clutched on to Santana's wrist and kissed the heel of her palm.

“San,”

Quinn felt her tongue run across her bottom lip. Santana reached down, placing a kiss on Quinn's cheek. She turned her head, seeking out Santana's mouth for a tender kiss. Quinn moaned and felt her cock pulse in her shorts. Santana ended the kiss.

“You're drunk Quinn,” she said.

Quinn felt her dick harden as she watched Santana. When she wasn't an angry drunk, she was a crying one, but around Santana she was always horny and sometimes a crybaby too. She pulled Santana closer, causing her to hover over Quinn.

“I-I,” Quinn said, feeling the start of tears damp her lashes. “We don't have to...I just-”

Santana leaned down for another kiss and Quinn hiccuped as she tried to suppress her tears. She felt Santana shift and the bed to her left sank down. Quinn pulled an inch back with a sigh and saw Santana on her said, watching at her. She gulped, feeling Santana's hand glide down her hip and pull her shorts down her thighs. She shivered as the breeze of cold air touched her cock when Santana pulled it out. She glanced down to see Santana's hand wrapped around the base and the gleam of pre-cum building at the head of her dick. Quinn closed her eyes at the feel of Santana's hand stroking her. She opened her mouth to let out a breathy whimper. The pace had changed as Santana brought her hand down and twisted her hand as she came back up to the tip.

“S-Santana,” Quinn whispered, reaching forward for the touch of Santana's soft lips.

She met Quinn's mouth in an open kiss and quickened the pace of her hands. Quinn moaned, letting it wash away into the kiss. Santana nipped Quinn's bottom lip before moving her kisses along the Quinn's slender neck.

“We aren't,” she said, quivering. “I want...more.”

Quinn thread a hand through her own hair and moaned as Santana increased the speed of her hand again. Santana nibbled Quinn's shoulder and kissed down to her collar bones.

“No, San, I meant – oh fuck!”

Quinn cringed as she felt Santana's teeth sink into her neck. She alternated between biting and sucking while she kept her hand full with Quinn's dick. Quinn's thoughts abandoned her as she felt the build up of her orgasm near. She felt her balls tighten and contract. Quinn rocked her hips into Santana's hand, focused on her need for a quick release. Santana rubbed her thumb over the head, grinning as she watched Quinn.

“Shit Q,” Santana whispered.

Quinn clutched on to Santana's shoulder as she gave a final thrust.

“F-Fuck!”

She felt her cock spasm as she came. A series of rapid burst of cum splattered on to Santana's palm and wrist. The last of the cum trickled down and Quinn rolled on to her back winded and panting. She gulped, her eyes closed and her back arched.

“Ugh, oh shit,” Santana said. “You nutted on my jeans!”

Quinn burst into laughter. She turned her head to the left to see Santana pulling off her jeans while her other hand was still covered in her semen.

“It's not funny!” Santana said, tossing her jeans onto the floor and wiped her hands on the side of the bed.

“Oh gross!” Quinn said, with a frown of disgust.

“Payback!”

Santana removed her shirt and her bra before digging into Quinn's drawer again. She took t-shirt before getting back into bed. Quinn wiggled to try and pull her shorts back up while moving back on her side so Santana could have room. She glanced at Santana, running a finger down Santana's cheek and stroked her hair.

“I'm sorry I n-nutted on your pants,” she said, trying not to laugh.

Santana squinted her eyes into a glare. Quinn started laughing again. Santana grabbed Quinn's penis and firmly struck her hand at it. Quinn gasped. Santana stared at her with a look of disbelief.

“Oh my god, you freak!” she said. “You liked it!”

Quinn felt her face heat up.

“No!”

“You totally got turned on from getting your dick spanked!” Santana said, a teasing grin in place.

“Can you not say that!” Quinn screamed.

Santana started laughing and pulled the sheets back to slip beneath and cuddle against Quinn. She stationed herself behind Quinn and wrapped her arms around her waist. Quinn pressed her face into her pillow to hide her red cheeks. When she was no longer embarrassed she peeked over her shoulder.

“You're going to wash my sheets right,” she said. “You just wiped my jizz all over it!”

“Don't count on it.”

“Santana!”

“Good night Quinn.”

Quinn felt the edges of her mouth tug upward into a smile before her eyes closed. Santana's hand rested on her hip.

***

Quinn had one of the worse hangovers with a droning headache Sunday morning. She grunted and pushed herself up to lean against the headboard. Santana was gone, but a pair of crumpled jeans was left on the floor of her room. She noticed a yellow sticky note on the nightstand with Santana's curly writing.

_I borrowed your clothes since you came on mine!_

**Santana**

**P.S.** _You're paying for my dry cleaning Fabray!_

Quinn laughed and rubbed her eyes with an exhausting sigh. She made it out of bed and into the kitchen where a cup of water stood on the counter with a bottle of Advil. Quinn felt herself start to smile. She knew Santana left it out for her, but she decided to leaving the cooking for Quinn. She had a habit of being strict what was being cooked from pass experiences with Rachel. Quinn swallowed two pills with a few gulps of water then finished the rest of the cup. She opened the fridge to make a late breakfast as the clock on her cable box read noon. She took out a pitcher of orange juice when her door opened. Quinn turned around to see Santana enter with a tray of coffee and a white paper bag.

“Good, you're finally up,” Santana said, entering the kitchen. “I bought egg and cheese bagel sandwiches and yes with extra bacon.”

“How did you get in here?”

“I took your keys while you were sleeping,” Santana said with a shrug.  
Quinn raised her brow as she came over to take the bag and quickly pulled out a bagel wrapped in aluminum foil. She took a big bite into her sandwich and took a seat at the table. Santana decided to sip her coffee first as she watched Quinn devour her bagel.

“You've been waiting for me this whole time?” Quinn said, half way through her bagel.

Santana put her coffee down and unwrapped her bagel. Quinn finished the last of hers and was working on her coffee next.

“I got tired of hearing your snoring.”

“I do not snore!” Quinn said, watching Santana grin.

“If you say so,” Santana said, taking a swig of her coffee.

Quinn finished hers and left the kitchen, stretching the kinks in her shoulders. She let out a content grunt when her joints popped.

“I'm gonna be in the dark room,” she said, heading toward her spare bedroom.

Santana trailed after her.

“You're going to work on a Sunday,” she said.

“Tomorrow is Monday,”

“That's exactly why you bum it and then do shit about work on a weekday,” Santana said, with a nod and grabbed Quinn's forearm. “Me and you are staying in. I know better things we can do.”

“But I have photos to develop!”

Quinn was yanked into her bedroom and Santana shoved her on to the bed. She didn't have time to get up before Santana pinned her down with her arms beside Quinn's head and her legs straddling her hips. She felt Santana's plump lips against her own and sighed. Quinn snaked her arm around Santana's waist and slide her other hand underneath Santana's Henley top. She gasped as Quinn grabbed her by the hips and spun them around. Santana removed her shirt, giving Quinn enough time to reach an arm out to her nightstand and opened the top drawer. She pulled out a camera and pointed it at Santana.

“You keep your camera in your room,” Santana said with furrowed brows. “Don't you have enough dick pics?”

Quinn felt her jaw drop as she let out a huge scoff. Santana started laughing. She cupped her hand under Quinn's chin and pushed her jaw up.

“Asshole!”

Santana laughed again and locked her left arm around Quinn's neck and brought her in to place a kiss on her cheek.

“Oh come on, if I had a dick as big as yours I would have a catolog,” Santana said, kissing Quinn's neck. “You can't tell me you've never taken one.”

“Unbelievable.”

Quinn got up and put her camera back into the drawer. Santana sat up, sighing and rolling her eyes.

“It's a joke,” she said, sitting at the edge of the bed. “I really like your work, even if you like to take a shit ton of pictures of me. Mostly after we've banged and had amazing sex.”

Quinn sat back down and kissed Santana's bare shoulder. She laid her head on to her shoulder. Santana took her hand and brought it on to her lap.

“You're checking out my tits aren't you?”

“...Yes,” Quinn whispered.

Quinn sprang forward tackling Santana onto her back again. She tugged at the straps of Santana's black bra. Santana chuckled. Quinn cellphone buzz against the wooden surface of her nightstand. She picked it up to see Rachel's name light across the screen. She felt her brows knit together into a frown.

**Rachel**

_I found some more boxes. Come pick them up as soon as possible._

“Quinn?”

She put her phone down and stood up.

“I have to go,” Quinn said, heading to her closet for a change of clothes.

“What? Why?”

“It's just...I,” Quinn said, flustered.

“It's Rachel isn't it?”

Quinn nodded. “I have to pick up some things. You understand right?”

“Yeah sure.”

Quinn longingly looked over her shoulder before taking off her tank top and slipped into a dress. She heard the tap of Santana's feet as she left. Quinn pressed her head into the door frame of her sigh and groaned.

***

Quinn pushed through the door of the condo once shared with her wife. The three boxes were set beside the bed. She stuffed her keys back into her purse and stepped into the bedroom. The house looked the same, except for the bare kitchen. Quinn was the only one able to cook.

“Where were you?”

Quinn turned around to see Rachel in the door way of their former bedroom with a scowl. She made her way to the boxes, scanning the items carelessly thrown inside. She can see a box full of photo albums.

“I came here as quickly as I could Rachel.” Quinn said. “I won't be a minute.”

“I'll have the rest of your things dropped off.” Rachel said.

“I can get everything myself.”

Quinn picked the boxes up and Rachel was kind enough to open the door as she made her way out. She paused at the door, watching Rachel's glare soften the longer she stared into Quinn's green hazel eyes. Quinn cleared her throat, swallowing as she broke eye contact with Rachel.

“I just,” Quinn whispered, staring at her feet. “Let me pay for the movers.”

She watched Rachel's bottom lip tremble before blinking away the shine of tears from her eyes. Quinn deeply inhaled.

“Good bye Quinn.”

Quinn turned around before the door was closed in her face.

***

Quinn hadn't planned on touching the boxes until after work, Monday night, but she didn't expect to see Santana waiting for her inside when she got home. Santana sat at the couch, legs crossed and her arms resting on her chest.

“What,” Quinn said, closing the door.

Santana got up, sauntering her way over to Quinn whose eyes were taking in her tight red dress. It came to mid-thigh length with a slit to the hip and had a deep v-neck neckline, exposing Santana's cleavage. Santana's heels clicked along the hardwood floors until she stopped in front of Quinn and tugged at the collar of her button up blouse.

“H-Hi,” Quinn said, gazing into swirling brown eyes.

Santana grinned.

“I've been thinking,” she said, undoing the first two buttons from Quinn's collar.

“Oh?”

Santana worked her way through the third button. Quinn's hands rested on her hips. She dipped down to kiss her, but Santana had turned her head to continue loosening the buttons to her blouse.

“You've been really stressed lately,” Santana said, popping the last button and pushed Quinn's shirt open.

Quinn felt her mouth tug up into a smirk. She swiftly removed her blouse, standing in just a bar and skirt with her heels still on. Santana's hands glided from Quinn's thighs to her butt and tugged at the metal zipper of her skirt.

“And you've come here to relieve me,” Quinn said, moving her hands down Santana's lower back.

“If you behave,” Santana chided, and took a hold of Quinn's wrist to remove her hands from her rear.

Quinn leaned forward again trying to capture Santana's lips with her own. Santana took a step back, keeping her eyes on Quinn as they moved through the house. She felt Santana shove at her shoulders and send her toppling on to the couch. Santana dropped to her knees, stroking her fingers down the smooth skin of Quinn's calves. She curled them around slim ankles and pulled off the first heel. Quinn let out a sigh and clutched the armrest of the couch with her right hand. She felt her cock jolt and felt a bump forming from beneath her skirt. Santana had removed her other heel and kissed Quinn's knee.

“Take off your skirt,” she said, placing another kiss beside Quinn's left calf.

Quinn silently obeyed, whimpering when she caught sight of her erection through her underwear. Santana stood up, straddling Quinn's lap, making sure to avoid any contact with her dick. Quinn's hands held on to Santana's hips. Santana took Quinn's right hand and slipped it under her dress.

“Fuck San,” Quinn said, gulping. “No underwear?”

She moaned as her finger pushed through the wetness of Santana's arousal. The warmth and silky walls of her folds clamping around her finger. Santana entered a second finger and whimpered. Quinn's two fingers were curled upward before being pulled out. Santana brought her hand up and sucked at the tips of her soaked fingers. Quinn watched Santana's lips wrap around her fingers to the knuckle, sucking then pulling off with a pop. She closed the space between them and captured Quinn's mouth into a fast and hungry kiss. Quinn groaned when her tongue touched Santana's and picked up the faint taste of her arousal. Santana sat back, out of breath and her chest raising. She brushed down a black strap to Quinn's bra.

“Off,” she ordered.

Quinn took it off as fast as she could, leaving Santana time to get back on her knees against the couch. She dropped her bra to the floor when Santana was tugging her underwear pass her thighs and it joined the rest of her clothes.

“Santana, your dress,” Quinn said, feeling her bottom lip jut out into a pout.  
Santana laughed and guided Quinn's hand to the zipper of her dress. She didn't hesitate to pull it down and watched Santana step out of her dress, gloriously, completely naked.

“Shit,” Quinn whispered.

Santana peered up at Quinn with a sly grin before taking Quinn's cock into her hand and wrapped her lips around the tip.

“Oh fuck!” Quinn hissed, her back arching off the couch.

She pushed Santana's hair to the side and stroked her fingers through them as she watched Santana suck more of her into her eager mouth. Quinn's hand moved to cup the back of Santana's head and she sat back feeling her teeth graze over her bottom lip before biting down.

“Damn San!”

Quinn opened her eyes to see Santana slide half way down her cock, her tongue brushed along the underside of her dick. She pulled back, letting out a audible moan, and slide back on to Quinn's lap. She let out a shaky chuckle and and yanked Santana into a gentle kiss. The kiss ended and Santana made her way down Quinn's chest, putting a kiss between her breast before sucking on her right nipple.

“Shit San let me just,” Quinn moaned, cupping a hand on Santana's ass and squeezed.

Santana's right hand caressed Quinn's other breast. Quinn pushed her back, feeling her dick painfully ache from the lack of friction. She watched Santana glide between her legs again and instantly swallowed her down to the hilt.

“Fuck!” Quinn cried.

Santana pushed farther down, wrapping her lips to the base and brushed her tongue along the curve of Quinn's balls. She arched off the couch, tightly gripping the armrest. She felt her cock pulse and her balls tighten. It took Quinn a lot of self control to pull Santana back. Santana sat back with a coy smirk in place as she licked her lips.

“Jesus,” Quinn said, out of breath. “Are you trying to kill me?! You've never...”

“Practice makes perfect,” Santana said.

Quinn chuckled. She's never had Santana deep throat all eight inches of her before. It wasn't something Quinn demand she be able to do, but having the feeling of her throat clamp around her nearly made her blow her load. She can't remember the last time she's had that feeling before.

“Can I-”

Santana straddled her again and guided the tip of Quinn's cock into her center.

“Shit!” Quinn groaned, tying her arms around Santana's hips.  
Santana laughed before shifting to press her knees into the couch beside Quinn's thighs. She placed her hands on the head of the couch as she changed her weight to her legs for support. Quinn's left hand abandoned her hips to grope Santana's breast and flick her thumb over her nipple.

“Fuck Q,” Santana whimpered. “Just fuck me already!”

Quinn moved her hands to Santana's thighs and thrust her hips upward. Santana doubled over, clinging on to Quinn's shoulders for support. Quickly, her hips shot up filling the room with the slap of their sweat covered skin. Quinn pulled Santana down, pushing herself deeper, and grinned seeing Santana gasp.

“Shit!”

Quinn increased the pace of her hips, relishing the feel of her dick quickly sliding inside soft wet folds. Santana had let out a flood of obscenities the harder Quinn pounded into her. Quinn felt Santana's hands grip at her hair and pull.

“Oh god,” Santana gasped. “F-Fuck, Q, pull my hair!”

Quinn felt herself grin in triumph. She pulled at Santana's bottom lip before sucking on it and bit it just as she took a fist full of Santana's hair and pulled. She watched Santana wither above her as she came. Quinn felt her walls squeeze around her dick and a rush of warmth ran down her dick. Santana rested her forehead on to Quinn's shoulder, panting into her ear and motionless. Quinn continued the pump of her hips, hearing Santana moan.

“Oh, oh shit San,” Quinn gasped. “Gonna- fuck!”

Quinn felt her cock twitch and flex as wave after wave of cum shot into Santana. She stared down at Santana's hips waiting for it to cease. It took a minute before Quinn could pull out. A trail of semen glided down Santana's thigh.

“Shit I came a lot,” Quinn said, wiping away drops of sweat from her forehead.

Santana sat on her lap and placed a hand on Quinn's cheek before slowly kissing her. She  
pulled back with a dreamily grin in place.

“Fuck that was intense,” Santana said, kissing the side of Quinn's neck. “You up for another round?”

Quinn chuckled. “Oh hold on there energizer bunny! Give me a minute.” she wiped away another bead of sweat. “I need...um, water break?”

Santana scoffed and got up to fill a cup with water. She returned and offered her drink. Quinn accepted it, watching Santana sit next to her as she gulped it down. She set it on the table with a content sigh after it was empty.

“What,” Quinn said, turning to see Santana staring at her.

“Nothing.”

Santana looked across the room, running a hand through her hair. Quinn sat up and gave Santana a nudge on her thigh.

“You only say nothing when something is bothering you,” Quinn said. “What is it?”

Santana continue to scan the room. Quinn felt her hand curl into a fist. She's talked with Santana after sex before and she's never been this hesitant. Quinn has only ever seen Santana confident and playful. She was always honest and blunt. Santana looked back at Quinn her face still, but her eyes weren't filled with the usual smoldering heat.

“What is this?” Santana said.

Quinn felt her throat go dry. She stared at her hands that had both turned white at the knuckles from her tight grip. Quinn released a mouthful of air in a noisy sigh.

“What do you mean?”

Santana rolled her eyes.

“You know exactly what I mean,” she said, her eyes flaring with anger. “What are we?”

Quinn got up to her feet. She couldn't have this talk now, at least not while she was naked. She felt a flush of heat settle into her face and her chest ached. Quinn found her underwear and was searching for her bra when Santana got up.

“Quinn!”

“I-W-We can't...I'm not ready for this talk!” Quinn said, fluttering around the room trying to gather her clothes.

“You mean you don't want to!”

“Please Santana, this isn't the time.”

Quinn had on her bra, but found the more layers she put on the more exposed she felt. Santana followed her behind the couch and grabbed her arm, spinning her around.

“We need to talk about this!” Santana insisted. “You can't expect me to just let you fuck me for two months and things would stay completely casual?”

“Why not? What's wrong with keeping things being simple?” Quinn said, slipping on her skirt. “Things were going fine that way.”

Santana shook her head. “You're so fucking stupid!”

Quinn felt her jaw clench.

“When you were drunk you wanted to talk to me and why is it so hard now?”

“I was drunk Santana!”

Quinn finally found her blouse underneath the coffee table and pulled it on.

“Let's just keep this simple. Things are easier that way.” Quinn said.

“I want more!”

Quinn froze. Santana crossed her arms, waiting for Quinn to speak, but when she wasn't going to say a word Santana gave another disapproving shake of her head.

She collected her dress and could only get it to zip half way, but refused to ask Quinn for help. Quinn ran a hand through her hair.

“Santana, wait,”

She shot a glare over her shoulder at Quinn with a glare then she was gone.

“Shit,” Quinn sighed.


	2. Part II

A week had passed and Quinn still didn't hear from Santana. She knew it was her fault and Santana had every reason to leave. But Quinn wasn't about to try and track her down when she had no idea what to say and she was still indecisive about making their fling that was turning from fuck buddies to friends with benefits or something more. It was a train-wreck waiting to happen. Quinn decided she was going to spend most of her free time at work and drinking the nights away. It worked until she started crying herself to sleep when she was drunk. Quinn let out a sigh as she finished the last of her whiskey and set her cup down. She looked at her phone, but she only received text from Kurt.

**_Kurt_ **

_Quinn, get out of that bat cave you call a home!_

Quinn scoffed. She felt her phone buzz a second time.

**_Kurt_ **

_Santana told me what happened. We need to have a talk pronto._

She stared at the text for a few seconds before replying.

**_Quinn_ **

_Stay out of my business brown-noser!_

She dropped her phone on the coffee table and headed into her dark room. The alcohol wasn't working, but sometimes spending her days in the darkroom relaxed her. She gathered bins that were left in a box and picked up her gallon of developer against the wall. It was empty.

“Shit,” Quinn said, placing it down.

She had a spare container but it was in her other condo. As much as she didn't want to go back she would eventually need. Quinn began to sort through her drawers for a fresh pair of clothes. If she was lucky Rachel wouldn't be home and Quinn could be out as less than a second.

***

Quinn arrived at the door of her old condo just as the door itself opened. She stood back, watching a guy step out and Rachel in the doorway dressed in a robe. He kissed Rachel's cheek before leaving. Quinn waited until the door was closed to move again. She opened the door just as Rachel was going to lock it.

“Quinn, what are you doing here,” Rachel said, tugging at the flaps of her robe.

“I don't care about the guy Rachel,” Quinn waited for Rachel to answer.

“So you're stalking me now?!”

Quinn ran a hand through her hair.

“I was coming over to get some of my photo chemicals,” Quinn said. “I wasn't trying to stalk you.”

Quinn shook her head. She knew it was obvious. She wasn't as clueless or stupid like Santana said before she left.

“Who you sleep with isn't my concern anymore,” Quinn said, her voice stern and angry.

Quinn zipped through the house, opening a closet in the hallway and hastily gathered her chemicals. She glanced at Rachel, who had been watching her, and she headed for the door.

“Quinn?”

“Whatever Rachel,” Quinn said. “It doesn't matter. We're getting a divorce anyway.”

Quinn ran out, slamming the door behind her.

***

Another week passed. Quinn cut back on drinking, but Kurt didn't stop texting her. He threatened to show up and smack sense into her and he urged her speak with him, since talking with Santana wasn't going to happen. She continued to ignore her. Quinn holed herself up in the darkroom and come Saturday night she decided to finally have a drink. She got to two cups of Whiskey when she heard a knock at the door.

“Hi, Quinn.”

She wearily eyed the guy in front of her. He wasn't the one she spotted at the condo, but for all Quinn knew Rachel could have slept with an endless amount of men.

“Yes,” she said, watching him step aside.

Standing in the hallway was two other Broadway actors, one male and the other female, holding up at a hunched over and very drunk Rachel. She looked back to the guy with a glare and he cowered away from the door.

“She insisted we bring her to you after we were done celebrating our opening night,” he said, fearfully.

“Q-Quinn!” Rachel said, finally spotting her.

Rachel pushed herself away from her friends and wobbled over to Quinn. She pulled her into a hug.

“Rachel, stop it,” Quinn said, looking back to her friends. “Thank you. I'll take care of her.”

The group left and Quinn pulled Rachel inside while trying to keep distance between her. Rachel had continued to try and hug and cuddle with Quinn. She sat Rachel on the couch and put her whiskey back into the fridge. She served Rachel a cold cup of water.

“Why did you come here Rachel,” Quinn said, feeling her brows pinch together into a scowl.

She looked at Quinn confused and fumbled to get off the couch. She pulled Quinn into another hug.

“I missed y-you,” Rachel said, clinging to Quinn.

Quinn felt her eyes water again and blinked them away. She bit her lip before taking Rachel by the shoulders and shoving her.

“Stop it.”

Rachel stumbled back, gasping and finding her footing against the couch arm. Quinn watched her eyes gloss over as tears formed and her bottom lip jutted out into a pout. She gave out a groan. She knew Rachel had always been a needy drunk. She was lonely and years ago under different circumstances this was normal.

“Fine,” Rachel said, turning around headed to the door. “I'll g-go!”

Quinn watched her stumble as she moved and noticed she didn't have her heels on anymore either. If she allowed Rachel to leave like this and she was sure Rachel didn't even come here by car, then she would feel guilty if something happened to her; divorce aside.

“Rachel, please stay here,” Quinn said, following her.

“No, I'm going!”

Quinn rushed over and pulled Rachel away from the door before pinning her to the nearest wall. She peered down into Rachel's tearful eyes. She had been the one to initiate the kiss and Quinn, tipsy and her thoughts clouded from the whiskey, reacted. She felt the heat of Rachel's tears slip down her face. The only thing Quinn could think about was how strange this was. How the feel of Rachel's lips on hers didn't make her shiver and it didn't make her stomach twist and tie into a knot. She grabbed Rachel's shoulders and stepped away from the kiss.

“I can't do this,” Quinn whispered, taking another step back.

“What are you talking about?”

“This doesn't feel right,” Quinn said.

Quinn took a hold of Rachel arm and guided her through the house and straight to the bedroom. Rachel wiggled free once inside and faced Quinn with her arms crossed and her face stern.

“Tell me!” Rachel said.

“Rachel, please, it's late and-” Quinn said, opening her closet door in search of clothes.

“I'm not doing anything until we talk about this!”

Quinn sighed and spun around. She didn't expect Rachel to be cooperative. She was headstrong, ambitious, curious, and the list carried on, but she wasn't always this stubborn when drunk. Quinn can't remember her stubbornness being a hindrance. It's what got her the plays on broadway. It got Quinn to finally have the courage to ask her to marry her when they were younger.

“That kiss was a mistake,” Quinn said, making her way back to the foot of the bed. “I'm not just saying that because of our divorce. We've grown apart. We're different people now Rachel. I'm not in love with you anymore.”

Quinn watched Rachel's lip quiver and she bit her bottom lip seeing the glint of tears down Rachel's cheeks. She wiped away several tears before turning away and getting into bed. Quinn silently came over to place a quilt over Rachel as she continued to cry.

“I-”

“Please don't Quinn,” Rachel said, sniffling through her sobs. “I'm so tired.”

Quinn nodded stepping out the bedroom and closed the door. She leaned back against it to calm her nerves. She wiped away the tears that clouded her vision. She let out a heavy sigh and walked away.

***

Quinn left the following morning. The only thing Quinn could only think about was Santana. She had to make things right. She headed straight to Santana's apartment with a bottle of vodka and whiskey for herself. Quinn knew she had no reason to be here. Santana was clear on wanting to move on without Quinn around. She felt her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she watched the door open. Santana stared, speechless, and still for a moment.

“What are you doing here?” she said.

Quinn felt her heart swell and throb in the center of her chest. She expected Santana to be angry. It didn't make facing her any less easy. From the look of on her face, Quinn knew alcohol wouldn't be enough and it was a given food wouldn't be either to calm her. Quinn slowly inhaled, biting the inside of her cheek.

“Can we talk, please?” she said. Santana didn't budge. “I know I messed up and...can I come inside?”  
Santana eyed her a moment longer and she stepped back before opening the door. Quinn steadily entered, feeling Santana's heated gaze on her. She dropped her bag of vodka and whiskey on the table.

“I brought drinks,” Quinn said.

“It's too early to drink.”

Quinn left the drinks, joining Santana into the center of the living room. Santana chose to stand at the seat further from her. Quinn remained at the armrest of the couch, clasping her hands together at the hips. This would be easier with a drink in her hand, but Santana wouldn't take her seriously if she was drunk. Quinn fished a hand into her jacket pocket and pulled out a white envelope. She twirled it between her fingers in front of Santana.

“I checked the mail this morning,” she said, gripping the envelope in her right hand “I'm officially divorced now.”

Quinn felt herself smile, relieved. She watched Santana's face soften.

“That's good for you Quinn,” she said. “But what does this have to do with me? Why are you here?” Santana said.

Quinn took a deep breath for a moment and waited for the tension in her shoulders to leave as she slowly released it. She placed the envelope on the coffee table in front of her. She brushes away a strip of blonde hair from her eyes.

“Rachel came over last night,” she whispered, looking at Santana and quickly back to the table when they made eye contact.

From the peripheral vision of her eyes, Quinn can see Santana start to frown again. She crossed her legs, taking in a tiny inhale of breath. Quinn bit her bottom lip.

“She was drunk and came on to me,” Quinn said, she felt her eyebrows droop and pinch together above the bridge of her nose. “We kissed.”

Santana stared at her in silence. Her frown deepened and her head tilted, looking Quinn over. Quinn looked up to see Santana had her arms crossed over her chest with her jaw clenched.

“So you came here to tell me that?”

“No!” Quinn cleared her throat. “Well, yeah, but, no. I just...it wasn't right San. I'm not in love with her anymore.” She looked away and down to her feet, pursing her lips into a thin line. “I don't think either of us is. We haven't been for a long time.” Quinn turns back toward Santana. “I think I needed to feel it to understand.”

Santana huffed, and leaned back into her chair. Quinn hadn't seen her this patient, but it wouldn't last long.

“Okay, that's good Quinn. You're getting your shit figured out. But I still don't know why you're here!”

Quinn felt her tongue brush against the roof of her mouth and gulped. The thought of a glass of whiskey sounded appealing again. Santana frowned.

“When we first met, all I wanted was something fun, a distraction. It was supposed to keep my mind off of the mess my life was falling into,” Quinn said, clenching her hand as she felt it start to shake. “I needed that. I needed you, right at that point.”

She felt her hand ache and looked down to see that the blood from her knuckles was gone, turning them white. Quinn sighed. Santana arched a brow in question, waiting.

“And now?” Santana asked.

“It's not just for fun anymore,” Quinn said, releasing the grip in her hands, allowing the blood to rush back in. “I miss you.”

She watched Santana's face soften and her eyes lighten before they glimmered, slick with the start of tears.

“And I know I made a mistake and I know if I don't do something it'll be the biggest mistake I've ever made and I can't live with that regret,” Quinn said, sighing and feeling the tension of her muscles leave.

Quinn brought her hands together, feeling them start to shake.

“Santana?” she whispered.

“Does this mean we're exclusive now,” Santana said. “I don't want to wait another week not knowing.”

“Yes,” Quinn said. “I want to be with you.”

“How do I know I can trust this is real and that we're official?” Santana asked, eyes narrowed and glaring at Quinn.

“I came here to make things right with you with every intention of making you my girl,” Quinn said, reaching a hand out to take a hold of Santana's wrist. “If you would let me. I'm in love with you.”

Santana stepped forward, putting her arm around Quinn's neck and pulled her into a kiss. Quinn's left hand cupped Santana's face and her right hand curled around her hips. She pushed Santana back against the love seat. She pushed Quinn back to end the kiss and brushed a hand under Quinn's shirt. Quinn pressed her forehead onto Santana's, lovingly gazing into brown smoldering eyes and shivered as she felt Santana's thumb rub against her stomach.

“I have to be honest with you,” Santana whispered.

Quinn put her hands on to Santana's waist to keep her still. She felt her stomach twist into knots. Santana bit her bottom lip, taking a deep breath before kissing Quinn's cheek.

“I'm pregnant.”

Quinn felt her stomach burn and ache. Santana looked back at her. She watched Quinn, trying to gauge her reaction. Quinn kept her hands on Santana; afraid moving would ruin things between them.

“H-How long,” Quinn asked, feeling the buildup of tears against her lashes.

“I found out last week,” Santana said. “I didn't know how to tell you. I-I didn't think you'd-”

“I want to keep it,” Quinn said.

Quinn's face stretched into a smile. Santana wiped away her tears of joy. Quinn gave her a quick peck on her lips.

“I meant what I said to you. I want things between us to work and I want to raise a baby with you,” Quinn said, wiping away her own tears and smiled. “I've always wanted a child. We can be parents together.”

Santana brought Quinn closer for a tender and slow kiss. Quinn felt her smile against her lips with the taste of their tears. Quinn pulled back, feeling her cheeks ache as she broke into a smile of her own.

***

“Quinn?”

She heard a knock on the door and closed the lid to her photo paper before stepping out of her darkroom. Santana was standing outside with smears of batter on her apron.

“I need your help baking the cake and finishing the decorations,” Santana said.

“Yeah, sure,” Quinn said, walking into the kitchen.

On top of the table was a pile of candy, a bowl of chips with dip, and an auburn haired toddle, trying to figure out how to open the mini chocolate bars. He finally noticed the stomping of his parents and looked up, his hazel eyes wide with guilt.

“Mommy!”

Quinn came over to the table and put him on to the floor.

“Riley, I told you no candy before dinner,” Quinn said, sighing and stroking his hair.

“I'm hungry mommy.”

“I just fed him lunch,” Santana said, making her way to the island.

Quinn leaned down, stroking his caramel tinted cheek, and kissed his forehead.

“Why don't you go upstairs and play,” Quinn said. “We'll have the cake done and then your friends will be here to play with you.”

“Okay,” Riley said, grinning with excitement and rushed upstairs.

“We have an hour and a half before the party starts,” Santana said, pouring the cake batter into a cake pan.

“I'll work on the decorations while the cake is in the oven,” Quinn said, picking up a plastic bag beside the table.  
Quinn walked by Santana who had just put the cake inside and kissed her cheek. Santana smiled, letting out a content sigh. She turned around to give Quinn a quick peck on her lips in return.

“I love you,” Quinn said.

“You better,” Santana said, with a coy smirk in place. “Why else did you marry me?”

“Your great pair of tits and amazing ass,” Quinn said, chuckling as she watched Santana stare at her, her mouth agape.

Santana scoffed and whacked Quinn on the butt as she tries to run away. Quinn couldn't stop laughing as she left the kitchen with the bag of decorations. She entered the living room and opened the package to the party table cloth that had the words Happy Birthday printed on it with colorful letters.

***

“Kurt!” Riley yelled, rushing toward the door.

“Hey birthday boy!” Kurt said, picking Riley up into a hug. “How old are you today?”

“Five. I'm a big now,” he said, with a smile.

Kurt laughed and set him back down. Quinn approached the door with Santana, taking Kurt's coat.

“Hi Kurt,” Quinn said, stuffing it into the nearest closet. “Where's Blaine?”

“He went to park the car,” Kurt said, striding farther into the room.

He watched a row of children run through the living room, screaming, laughing, and covered with confetti. Riley took a hold of Kurt's hand and pulled him forward.

“Kurt, wanna play with me?”

“Sure buddy, lead the way.”

Quinn watched Kurt be taken to the backyard. She looked over to Santana who joined her and put an arm around Quinn's waist.

“We shouldn't have given those kids chocolate,” Quinn said.

“Wait until we cut the cake.” Santana added, sliding her hand into Quinn's.

***

Quinn slammed face down into her bed with a grunt. Santana rolled her eyes as she changed into a pair of pajamas.

“I'm exhausted!” she said.

“Did you tuck Riley in,” Santana asked, pulling on a pair of shorts.

“Yes,” Quinn said, remaining still with her face buried into her pillow.

Santana put on her t-shirt and got into bed. She nudged Quinn into the arm. She was given another grunt.

“Get changed,” she said, rolling on to her side.

“Don't wanna,” Quinn whimpered. “Do it for me?”

Santana scoffed.

“You're a bigger baby than Riley sometimes.”

Quinn rolled on to her back with a scowl. Santana raised a brow at her, smiling. She kissed Quinn's forehead.

“Thank you for helping me with the party,” Santana said, watching Quinn roll on to her side.

They had a kiss goodnight and Santana rolled over, facing her back to Quinn. She heard the nightstand light click off and Quinn lifted the quilt to settle in. Quinn scooted in closer, placing her hand on Santana's hip and kissed her shoulder. The kisses traveled to Santana's neck and her hand began to travel underneath Santana's shirt and up her stomach. Santana turned around, seeking out Quinn's lips in the dark for a passionate kiss.

“Love you,” Santana whispered.

Quinn smiled, shivering when she felt Santana's hands pull down her zipper and opened the button.

“I love me too,” she said, laughing when Santana pinched her thigh.

The bedroom door opened, pushing in a line of light from the hallway. Santana moved back on her side, while Quinn fixed her pants under the blanket. The room light flicked on and Riley stood in the door way with a pout.

“Hey baby, what are you doing up?” Santana said, pushing back the blanket and sat up.

Riley slowly made his way to the bed.

“I can't sleep,” he said, struggling to crawl into bed.

Santana helped him get up and placed him in between her and Quinn.

“He's still scared of that closet?” Quinn whispered, looking back at Santana.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” Riley asked, pouting.

Quinn sat up against the headboard.

“I thought you were a big kid now?” she said, stroking his hair.

“I'll be big tomorrow. I promise mommy,” Riley said, nodding. “I want to be big tomorrow.”

Quinn laughed and lifted up the quilt.

“Alright buddy.”

Riley quickly crawled his way inside and laid face down. She lay down and Santana got out of bed to shut off the room light. She kept the hallway light on and left the door slightly ajar. Quinn watched Riley's eyes slowly close until his chest started to steadily rise and fall. She looked across to Santana who had been watching her and they smiled, locking their hands together above Riley's head on the pillows. She couldn't have a family more perfect than this one.


End file.
